Growing Jiffy Plants

Most people know that my daddy was a farmer when he was here on this good ole' Earth. He grew all kinds of crops but he mainly grew hay to sell to other livestock farmers. As I grew up around the farm I always loved going out to the field to survey the wonder of the life that was growing before me. Even as I drive in my car today and look out the window, I am completely fascinated with how all of the elements just come together perfectly and produce the things that we need to sustain our lives. God is so good to us! After my daddy passed away when I was an early teenager, I felt like all of his wisdom and knowledge about growing plants went with him. As I grew up and later got married, I always felt like Mark was thinking that I should be outside growing a homegrown garden in our yard. I was ashamed that I did not know more about it. So now that I am staying home, and I am learning to be frugal with our finances, I am going to learn how to have a garden in my back yard. I have a really great friend who knows so much about growing and planting. Luckily, she does not judge me for my lack of knowledge, or the fact that I am uninformed about this. When I call her, she always tells me what I need to know, and she offers to help.

So, I was sitting here tonight looking at my Jiffy plant holder. We planted 72 seeds last week and they are growing at an alarming rate. . .faster than I had expected. Do I transplant? Do I set up a makeshift greenhouse with hay bales and glass. Do I wait? AHHHHHHH!!! OK, I won't stress over this, but I have made a few observations.
First, I had to remove my Jiffy plastic dome because the plants were getting really big. Letting them breathe in the open air and experience life outside the dome. This sort of reminds me of my kids. . .having to let go of their hands gradually and let them make a few decisions on their own. Second, playing a guessing game with the plants reminds me of the times as a parent that I second guess the decisions I make regarding my children. Oh, to know if I had made the right decisions??? Waiting and praying that God will lead me in the right direction. . .Praying for Wisdom. Thirdly, will the plants take to the ground and grow productively after I transplant them??? Will our children go out in the world and remember all that we have taught them about life, God, and how to be a productive member of society? We have invested so much love and energy into our little angels. All they need is a little Son light in their hearts. . .A breath of God's Air in their Souls. . .Some Blood to wash away their sins. . .Growing tall. . .Growing strong. . .Growing for God. . .Growing our Jiffy Little Plants...

The Mills Man

I have always been very fond of firey red Honda Civics since the early 1990's. I guess you can say they conjure up many happy memories of my very young and sometimes nieve adult life. When I see them now I smile, and the thoughts of years gone by come flooding through my mind. My first encounter with the Mills Man (and I use that term loosely) was on a steaming hot August night in1989. With music drifting through the tall pine trees and down the crowded streets my friends and I were well on our way to starting our new lives. The little college town of Buies Creek had never seen the likes of us and the enthusiam we brought with us (and will probably never see it again). As we made our way to the street dances that first night we mingled with new friends that we had made earlier that day. Could others feel the excitement that we felt that night? With senses hightened, my eyes turned and immediately locked with those of another. The sparkle in his eyes was indescribable. His hair tossed to and fro in the light breeze as we approached one another. I detected a slight sense of uneasiness about him, as if he was not sure about our meeting. As I suspected, we had many commonalities with each other. The gift of gab, love of life, analyzing life situations, and most of all passion were among many things we shared. Without sounding too cliche, our ships stopped before they passed in the night. How could we have known that our chance meeting that night would have formed into a lasting relationship? Somehow that August night we made a connection that we would never fully understand until many years later. How things might have been very different for us if we had chosen a different path that night. The man I know today is not that uneasy young man I met that night. He is a confident man searching for something that will fill the void in his life. He has long since left that Little Red Honda Civic in exchange for the life that he desires. Our lives have turned and taken different paths, but we still remember the moments we shared that night as it defines the way we live our lives. Excitement. . .Enthusiasm. . .Mystery. . .Happiness. . .Love. . .Passion. . .I will always thank the Mills Man for what he gave me. . .friendship and the love of my life.

A Mother's Love

When I was a little girl I remember the warm feeling that would overtake me when I was being held in my mother's arms. At age 36 it is hard to recall those moments because they were so long ago, coupled with the fact that most of us stopped being held by our mothers around age 3. Because I was a very needy child in the way of needing to be held and nurtured, I would find myself asking to be loved quite often. . .even if it was an inopportune moment for my mother. Even now I can see every line in her face and the way her mouth curved when she smiled at me. The sweet smell of Olay that she rubbed on her face and neck to smooth out the timely lines of age. The way her hair flowed around her neck and how it would twist around my fingers and slide out of the barrettes because it was thinning when I would play hair salon with her. The way she would look at me with love in her eyes when I would gaze into hers unknowingly. My mother was a woman of few words, but I knew that she loved me. It has taken me a very long time to understand the depths of love that she had for me, but having children of my own has show me how much. I used to think that she loved me less because she was unable to tell me daily how she felt, but I now know different. My mother loved me with her heart and soul. She provided for me and gave me what she thought I needed. She held me and took care of me when I was sick, and pushed me along to do the things that I thought I could not do on my own. I am my mother's daughter. I am strong, independent, and loyal. . .just like she is. I am a survivor and someone you can depend on in life. I have learned to work a 16 hour day on my feet. . .just like my mother did for me. I have learned to sacrifice so that my children will have what they need. . .just like my mother did for me. I have learned the value of strong family ties and being there for one another. . .just like my mother was for me. My mother loved me with all of her being. . .just like I love my own little angels. I guess that is what a mother's love is all about. Teaching. . .providing. . .nurturing. . .helping. . .loving.

The One

Perfection is a highly overrated quality that most of us are trying to achieve in our lives, don't you think? I was just pondering the many ways we try to acquire perfection and the risks that we will take in getting to that desired goal. How many of you reading this are on or have been on a diet? If you are a woman, then you most definitely say YES! When have we not been on a diet would be the better question. It is so sad to think that our society judges a person's worthiness on whether or not they fit into that size 4 dress, or if they have abs of steel. Third world countries are dying from starvation because they do not have enough food to eat, while we have enough to eat, and want to starve ourselves. How crazy is that? Why is it that we will not love a person because they are different in some way that does not meet the approval of society? I have many friends who have passed over wonderful mates because there was something "wrong" with the person they were dating. . .wrong hair color, too small, too big, big feet, annoying laugh. . .Do you know someone like that? Countless times I have told my friends that there will always be some sort of annoying quality that will absolutely drive you nuts with your mate. No one is going to be perfect. The task at hand is to ask yourself "Can I live with the good and the bad?" If the answer is no, then you must move on. A wise woman once said that you can not change your mate. . .no, that was not me! It was Oprah! It's true. If I had a penny for every time I have had to ask my spouse to pick up his clothes or get off of the computer, I would be a millionaire! However, I have learned to live around those annoying habits and deal with it. For the most part :-) What I am trying to say is that we all have some kind of baggage that we haul around with us. Decide what you want and then go for it. Remember that no one is perfect